


The Boy and the Pyre

by fallingfeathers



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 03:52:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6314263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingfeathers/pseuds/fallingfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate ending where Jaune accompanies Pyrrha up the tower, told from Jaune's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy and the Pyre

I owe you so much, and I only realized it when you started looking away.

I mean, you were always so present, Pyrrha. Like no matter what came up, you could handle it in an instant. Even in the very beginning, when Cardin wanted me to throw that jar of sap at you, I knew you’d be fine no matter what.

I just couldn’t stand for you to think I’d betrayed you.

And something told me you’d forgive me afterwards, without batting an eye, and I couldn’t stand for that, either.

So instead I stood up for myself, and felt like I’d done something right for the first time since coming to Beacon. All because of you, Pyrrha.

But I was too slow to realize it then. I didn’t even realize when we stood on that balcony together, and you told me about your loneliness. All I could think of was how heroic you were. How unjust your isolation, and how gracefully you bore it. I felt the distance between us then, me a blundering fool and you the perfect hero. And I could only play further into the fool’s part, donning that ridiculous dress, but you smiled so widely that it didn’t matter what I looked like.

Then your eyes clouded over and the whole team felt crippled. Well, Ren was as quiet as ever, and Nora as loud, but I felt crippled, and I’m a quarter of the team and I … I don’t quite know how to operate without you. Did you know that every time I make a decision, I first sneak a look at your face for an extra boost of courage? I didn’t either, until I glanced around and found my voice stuck in my throat because your mouth was flat and your eyes distant. It took some mental regrouping before I decided that as team leader, it probably was my job to tell Nora she should stop shaking Ren, it wasn’t that he was being stubbornly unresponsive, just that she’d accidentally knocked him unconscious earlier when she’d burst through the door. Even though you didn’t notice any of this.

I thought I’d become braver since coming to Beacon, but that day, I realized that I hadn’t changed at all. It was your encouragement that changed everything. Because how could I be afraid, knowing that I had your support? That would be like saying I didn’t believe in you, when I had more faith in you than anything else.

And with that belief, I actually did become a stronger person. A better person. Because although I stumbled over the next few days, I did all the things I thought a leader should do. All the things you would’ve expected me to do. The only thing I failed at was helping you, failed spectacularly there, in fact.

So I’m aware of how much I owe you, and how I’ve never been able to pay any of it back. I know I should be infinitely grateful to you, Pyrrha. Yet, even as your kiss tingles on my lips, all I can feel is blinding anger.

“Stop! Pyrrha, this isn’t fair!”

You pause, your fingers on the track pad of the locker. Your eyes are downcast. “Fair? Amber’s death wasn’t fair. Ozpin’s disappearance wasn’t fair—”

“And neither is this, Pyrrha!” I’m scrabbling against the slots of the locker, trying to get your attention, but you just shake your head as if trying to dislodge an irritating thought. “Damn it, Pyrrha, look at me!”

You do, with emerald eyes as beautiful as they are desperate. My breath catches, but I push forward, grasping at straws. “Do you remember telling me about destiny?”

“Yes,” you say slowly, as if the word hurts you. “But—”

“Then why won’t you let me have mine?”

“What?” you ask, and there is genuine confusion in your voice. It’s not the time for it, but I still find myself hurt that you don’t understand.

“Why do I have to run and hide while you risk your life? Haven’t we been training together to protect our world? I want to defend Vale as much as you do!”

Your hair billows like fire as you shake your head. “There’s too much you don’t know.”

“I know that that woman is evil, and that she must be stopped. Isn’t that enough?”

“Well—”

“I can help you, Pyrrha! Or do you not believe in me?”

And then I’m the one who can’t look at you as I await your answer. Because I’ve only been able to get this far knowing that you believed in me, and knowing that I couldn’t bear to let you down. I don’t know what I’ll do if you tell me directly that I’m a hindrance.

I hear an outtake of breath, then a click, and the door of the locker swings open.

“You’re right, Jaune. I’m sorry.”

I dare to look up, and you’re flashing me a smile, quick and apologetic. Then you grab my hand and pull me out of the locker.

“Let’s go defend our school together. There’s no time to waste.” Another smile as you speak, this time fierce and determined, then we’re running through the wreckage towards a broken elevator.

“Hold on,” you say, grabbing me around the waist.

“Whaa—AAAAHHHHHH!”

Everything dissolves into a blur of metal except for the soft warmth of your arms. Then our feet hit the ground of Ozpin’s office, and even as I’m staggering to regain my balance, you’ve launched your spear at the woman and are flying through the air with your shield. She’s using both arms to repel your charge, so I lunge with my sword, but she sidesteps easily and tosses you off her. We both adopt ready stances, watching for her next move.

“Swords and shields, how delightfully archaic!”

She laughs, high and tinkling, while levitating slightly into the air. I tense, my sword and shield held at ready, unsure what her powers are. Then her eyes flame up, and there is fire everywhere, slicing through the air, bobbing ready above her palms, and we are dodging and leaping in a circle around her. We try to keep diametrically opposite, so that when she turns to face one of us, the other can make a dash for her back. We need to close in, but the problem is, it’s dangerous to get too close to a fire. I taunt her, inviting her fireballs while keeping an eye on my aura, and you rush into the break I’ve created, rising high above her with your spear aimed at her neck. But she catches your spear with bare hands, throws it and you backwards (so strong—how is she so strong?), and you hit a pillar with a sickening crunch before collapsing onto all fours.

I remember your scream of pain down in the vaults and worry for your aura, but I can’t spare it more than a passing thought because she’s flying towards you, eyes alight with murder, and with a grunt I throw myself between the two of you, sword held blindly out. She sweeps my sword aside with a hand and hits my midriff feet first, ramming me into a wall. I lean over, gasping for breath, but the distraction is enough for you to recall your weapons, and you’ve got her off me and matching your parries.

The two of you are nothing more than a clash of sparks, and for a moment I’m spellbound by the beauty, almost losing myself. Suddenly your sword and shield fly in opposite directions across the room, and although disarmed, you’re on her before I can get to my feet, the two of you enshrouded by an expanding ring of white smoke. When I can see again, you have her in a headlock as she grasps your spear for dear life, and I think that this is it. We’ve won.

Then an earsplitting shriek rends the air, and something huge and black plows into the arena, taking the entire roof with it. I double over, bracing my ears with my hands, watching pillars crumble in the corner of my eye. Your face, mouth open, shouts some warning that I can’t make out over the roar. Then a heavy weight slams into my back, another into the back of my knees, and I realize that I am positioned beneath a latticework of gears that is quickly coming down. The noise, rather than the physical blows, assaults my consciousness. I am dimly noting the steady drops to my aura when all the gears lift off me and scatter roughly to one side.

You are on one knee, arms outstretched to control the gears, your face gritted with strain. She stands in the center, relaxed and patient, as if waiting for us both to regain consciousness before proceeding to the final act. When I raise my head, she tilts her head towards me in mock politeness, then draws one arm behind her back. A bow and arrow materialize out of thin air, and she lets loose, the arrow flying straight for your heart. You throw your shield to intercept it, but the arrow somehow reshapes around your shield, and for once I find myself reacting faster than you, because I’ve thrown myself in front of you, catching the arrow in my chest. There is a moment’s pause as I find myself surrounded by a brilliant white glow—my aura giving way—and then I feel the pain, so tremendous I can’t muster a scream, just soft, strangled gasps as my lungs fight stupidly for air.

She steps towards me, smile razor sharp, flames collecting in one hand. Then she points at me, the stream of fire following her finger, and I barely see its trajectory before I am on fire, everything atom burning, and any scream I give is dissolved by the one that rips from your throat.

“JAUNE!” you scream, and I see all the gears rise into the air behind her. Her eyes widen and she spins around, just in time for a gear to catch her on the midriff and pummel her into the ground. The others follow in a crushing semicircle. White-hot flames grow from the center, and for a moment I’m worried that she’ll fling off the gears as easily as she did our other attacks. But anger has made you deadly, and you use the flames as a furnace, reshaping molten metal into blades that press themselves eagerly into her body. There is a sickening cry from within, even as the mountain of gears transforms into a mountain of blades, and the flames shudder before extinguishing. She’s gone, but unfortunately, so am I.

_You’ll mourn me, I know, Pyrrha. You’ll rage and curse yourself for letting me accompany you up the tower. But, although you’ll never think of it this way, I think I did get a happy ending. For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed of being a hero. Yet I couldn’t help but fear that I’d end up the damsel in distress, always a hindrance rather than an asset._

_But I protected you today, Pyrrha. I finally got to protect you. And, because something tells me that only one of us could survive this day, I’m really glad it was you._

_Thank you for everything, Pyrrha._

_I love you._


End file.
